


Estranged Guardian

by MHWK



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Guilt, Reader Gender Neutral, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:57:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3451295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MHWK/pseuds/MHWK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on Supernatural Imagines tumblr post "Imagine you are Sam Winchester's guardian angel."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Estranged Guardian

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this might need a sequel in the future... 
> 
> If you guys want one, let me know.

Sam and Dean slept comfortably in their run down motel room. The beautiful Impala was parked outside. You’d had your eye on it, but conflicting emotions kept you from acting. No, it wasn’t conflicting emotions, you knew you wanted the car, but it wouldn’t be very nice of you to take it. So you simply admired it while they slept.

Dean took such great care of it, even when he rebuilt it he did it such justice it almost made you cry.

Looking over the Impala, you found a smudge on the window. “Oh… can’t have that now, can we?” you muttered to yourself and rubbed it away with your sleeve.

“HEY!” The shout spun you around and Dean Winchester had his famous sawed-off shotgun pointed at your face.

You put your hands up. Human habit. You'd been playing pretend much too long. “That really won’t work on me,” you said innocently, though it wasn't entirely true.

Sam stepped up behind his brother. “Yeah?” he asked, “What will?”

“Angel blade?” you suggested with a shrug. You took a step away from the car, your hands still in the air. “Don’t worry though, the car’s yours, not mine. I’m not a thief.”

You chuckled to yourself and made peace signs with your hands.

“I am not a crook!” you mimicked.

Dean’s shotgun lowered and his brows drew together. “What do you want?” he asked roughly.

His voice had definitely gotten rougher over the years. Sam’s hadn’t quite as much, but there was definitely a look he had mastered.

“Nothing,” you replied. “You had a smudge on your window. It was so awful I couldn’t stand by and allow the injustice to continue.”

The confusion on their faces was priceless. They risked a glance at each other, taking their eyes off you for only a moment. You thought about just leaving, disappearing, but this had been a long time coming. With as much as they knew about Heaven and Hell and all the awful things in between, they had a right to know what you had to say.

“Who are you?” Sam asked.

You couldn’t help but smile. The perfect question.

“Well, Sam Winchester. I’m your guardian angel.”

Their mouths fell agape. Their eyes widened.

You laughed and said, “And now for a commercial break!”

“What the hell do you mean guardian angel?” Sam shouted.

Dean scoffed, “You’ve done a bang up job, _Teen Angel_.”

Your brows furrowed. “Is that the show from ‘97 where the kid eats the old hamburger, dies, and gets appointed as his best friend’s guardian angel? I liked that one. I completely forgot the name. Thanks Dean.”

Sam stared. He made a face, it looked like he had eaten or smelled a bad batch of onions. You had dubbed that one _onion face_.

“What is wrong with you?” he blurted.

Dean chuckled to his brother. “This explains so much.”

Sam asked quickly, “If you’re mine, where’s Dean’s?”

“Oh, Castiel? He’s usually around, isn’t he?” you replied.

Dean’s face went slack.

“He came to you in your time of need, didn’t he?” you added.

That had sank in for merely a second when Sam took two great steps towards you. “And where the hell were you?” he barked.

Lightly, you said, “Do you have any water? I could really use a drink.”

“Angels don’t drink,” Sam said, his jaw tight.

“Any leftover burgers, eh? Teen Angel style?” you threw out.

“Angels don’t eat,” he said, his temper rising.

You opened your mouth and he cut you off.

“Where the hell were you when all of this started?” he shouted.

Everything inside of you jumped at the noise. A human reaction. You berated yourself for it immediately. You didn’t let him see that he had startled you.

Chuckling, you said, “It’s a funny story, actually.”

Sam wasn’t smiling. He looked seconds away from running you through with something. Even if it wasn’t a weapon that could kill an angel. He gave you a look. Closed off, done. You called it his _bitchface_.

You tried to keep the sad smile from your face. That had been your favorite of his expressions, when he used it on others. Now that it faced you, was used on you. It felt as if all of your failures came to light. 

“I’m not technically an angel anymore,” you said slowly. “Somewhere between fallen, earthbound, screwed. I won’t lie. I messed up.”

You moved to finally lower your hands, but a wave from Dean’s shotgun made you put them back up.

“You messed up?” Sam questioned shortly.

“You were an infant!” you replied. “Your family was kind! Good people! I didn’t see a risk! Nothing bad was going to happen to you! So I went out to celebrate… with a friend.”

The anger in Sam’s face disappeared. It was replaced, however, with sheer disappointment. “You were supposed to look out for me,” he said. “And the first time I needed you, you were out getting wasted?”

“I wish you were yelling at me,” you said softly. His quiet anger was unsettling.

“Get out of here,” he told you. "Stay away from me."

You nodded. What more could you say. He’d made his decision. It didn't matter if it hurt you. You knew you were in no position to argue.

Moving away from the Impala as they approached it and opened the car doors, you said, “For what it’s worth, Sam. They took my wings. They dropped me here with nothing and no one. I can’t make it better, but I can try. And whether you like it or not. I’m going to try to make this better one day.”

Sam sat in the passenger seat of the Impala. He wouldn’t look at you. The brothers didn’t have to say anything to one another. You could read it in the way Sam sat. And the way Dean turned the engine and pulled away.

Finally putting your hands down, you found the nearest car and claimed it as your own. You had taken the bus to get there. This time, you’d keep the Winchester’s taillights in view. This time things would be better.


End file.
